Reading Jules et Jim on My Balcony

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Neither young nor old, as Hispanic melodies reverberate from a temporary sunday's Colombie in the park, A man and woman South heading a little way. arms Full of boxes (two each) filled with thick glass Clicks, in lock step with their side-by-side gait. (Black pansies and rose begonias rustle near my toes, using their surrounding breath fronds to intermittantly tick ... continue reading

An Inclusion of Strangers because of a Dog’s Joke

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A surprising inclusion happened during a brief moment on a small corner of sidewalk. As Heather and I walked toward the cross-street, a couple walked toward us. A woman stood on the sidewalk, facing her shop’s window. Its overflowing wooden rectangle of flowers drooped a degree toward the street. She kept a hose running lightly at their bases. She focused. Tied to a signpost at her back, a cream furred dog sa ... continue reading

Coin in the Road

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Sometimes I notice I’ve found a coin on the ground. Then I feel like there’s no reason to pick it up. Someone else might need it more than I. But then there’s that car with the naked driver that idles too loudly. I’m afraid it will hit me as soon as I try to pick up the coin. Good thing I leave it for someone else. ... continue reading

Tadoussac Urchin

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And how fitting you are, urchin, for the first of the found. It’s been a rough day? All spiked and broken green quills drooping like some tired eyelids. The day started lulling like any other, I’ll bet. A back and forth like home-sweet-home, just the way rhythms work with littler things getting eaten by the bigger things, only to find themselves washed up. Your appetite was no less a part of this. Crawl ... continue reading

Dear Ms. Brown

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My Dear Ms. Brown, It was very nice to see you after being away for the last few years. I just returned from a walk and felt compelled to write to you after reflecting on what we were discussing at your party last week. Continue reading “Dear Ms. Brown” ... continue reading

Peer

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“Bring your meditations, I’ll have a great bowl of fruit.” … At the cliff, the two sat, legs dangling from the edge but feeling neither worry nor agitation. It was far enough to the bottom for fate to pronounce its name–but not so far that people lost their detail. Waves rolled toward the base of the cliff but lacked the ambition to reach it. Jack and Kathi, looking past their feet, co ... continue reading

Falling Honey-sun-day’s Perspective

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Between bold last leaves seeps the play of sun. {-} Afternoon autumn, still supporting leaves: their greatest glory d'composition I cast myself without self between, on and through and so all around. Rhythmically, slowly (in innocence of every good word beginning with "b") Riding up--through, the bicyclist: "le merveilleux peuple..." Rhythmically repeating on the rotation of a wheel. So many people ... continue reading

A Park, One Time, was but Three Steps from Memory

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Jesus, I was just going about my business. I get a lot done–or I try to anyway, but I get blind sometimes. I don’t mean I have problems with my eyes, which actually I do, but that I forget what I am. I forget the whole business, just the whole world. It just goes on without me remembering to be the part of it that I am. Then there they came, greening down around me. A benevolent insect flutter. In thei ... continue reading

Listening to Grappelli

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Grappelli is in a corner of the apartment his sound pervades the place, though He evades it completely. like he slipped in when the curtains wavered forward like his notes slip past their green cloth corners. --he's in the room I'm watching the curtain swing some more. Grapelli smiles a little with fingerish ease. the curtains role-- manifesting rainslick surprise, Grappelli ... continue reading

Not Nausea

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One day we walked from our homes and in our Terror the Raw world disjointed our knees. Hands slipped from our wrists attracted to radiance, which is; and blood, the faucet of is, stopped Itself, an evaporous ink, dried, of the funny valour it once bestowed on avarice. Some plucked it from veins like so many ripe cherries-- little deep rose deities. The ... continue reading

Diatribe on Digital Culture, Freedom, and Mistaken Fields of Invisible Stuff

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Incredulous–that is the only word for the situation unfolding itself. From practically any news source on any given day, a person can find a story about people being prosecuted for their dealings with artefacts of our own shared culture. They are prosecuted through laws which are perverted by or erected by business entities. In every instance the prosecuting groups make some headway toward bottleing-up our mu ... continue reading